Pout for me darling

Another day of waking up and thinking are we there yet. I'm starting to know exactly how a kid feels on a long car journey.

It's not that it's boring, I think I'm coping ok, mainly due to the fact that I have a boredom threshold on a par with Mount Everest. I can sit, just sit, to be honest, I don't think many can 'just sit' better than me. That said, it is nice now and again to do something.

Today we managed to acquire some flour, the boy brought it home, 2 bags, 2 whole bags.

Flour, I'm sure has got itself a street value now, it's as rare as a modest sentence coming out of Donald Trumps face.

I was toying with the idea of bagging it up in 10gram zip lock bags and getting me a little group of kids to, ahem, distribute it around the estate, but then I thought, nah sod it, its ours.

I can picture it now, all these worn out women with bad hair and ragged nails desperate for flour (blokes do look raged too but it didn't seem as amusing to me).

'Got any self raising mate, I need me some self raising'

Me 'Nah sorry love, only got plain, plain any good?'

'No, no, I need self raising'

Me 'got and raising agent'.............?

Right, lets stop that, its silly.

I'm just waiting to see the real girls at the end of this. No manicures, no hairdressers, no, ahem, plump lips. No more pouting. Real photos of real people. Gonna be some seriously busy beauticians after this all clears up, not to mention hairdressers.

I even think that the mullet could make a welcome return for us blokes. How glad am I that I never lost the belief it would come back. Finally I'm going to look fashionable, (I nearly said again then).

All joking aside though, us blokes definitely have it easier than you girls, we'll just look rugged, you, unfortunately, will look haggered, but we'll still love ya.